every night
by shiruru
Summary: SanNami, Nami's pov. Sanji has a certain habit before he goes to bed...


**every night**

* * *

  
The sound at the door gave him away. Just as it always does.  
  
He crept in, tossing his cigarette aside, and climbed down, barefoot. His body hugged the wall, deftly avoiding the telltale creak in the third-to-last stair. As he landed both feet safely on the floor, I heard him let out his habitual secret sigh of relief.  
  
You see... he does the same thing every night.  
  
Why?  
  
  
  
I closed my eyes and tried to appear to be sleeping. Auburn hair curled about my face on the pillow. Eyelids firmly shut but not squeezed too tight, and beneath them my eyes drifting as they would be if I were lost in a sweet dream. Lips, gently parted, allowing for deep, slow breathing.   
  
Which was the hardest part. Controlling my breathing. My heart was pounding, to a greater degree than it usually does when he's here. But I have to hide it. He couldn't know. I can't let him know.  
  
He stood in the deepest part of the shadows, at the head of my bed, and gazed silently down at me. His presence in my room seemed foreign, as though he did not belong unless he brought some kind of offering from the kitchen along with him.   
  
His customary three minutes of observation felt like hours to me tonight. It was so hard to keep still...  
  
Sanji shifted his weight from one long leg to the other, and I heard him run his fingers through his hair. A sigh escaped him, a single breath, but heaved in such a way that carried heavy thoughts.  
  
Burden.  
  
I never think about Sanji's thoughts. His emotions, yes, his feelings, but his thoughts... I don't imagine him thinking much. Could it be...  
  
Could it be that there is a lot to this man that I haven't taken the time to see?  
  
It may not show, but wouldn't it be only logical that behind the goofy smiles and the heart-eyed gaze lie something deeper? That was the first time I saw it. Sanji wasn't just some silly side dish for me to occupy some of my time with.  
  
Funny, that. I was able, in the middle of the night, with my eyes closed, to look past myself and think about someone else for a change.  
  
I am so selfish. Every day.  
  
Why?  
  
  
  
He knelt down by my bed, watching over me. If it were anyone else, I would have felt that a gaze that intense were burning a hole right through me. But Sanji's eyes are gentle, comforting, and even if he does make me embarrassed sometimes with his attentions, his azure gaze is never meant to hurt. He just wants to watch me, watch over me.  
  
I still remember. I still remember what it was like, to be watched, all the time. To always have _his_ eyes on me, the master watching over the slave. I still remember sometimes, in the darkest part of the night, how _he_ would come to my room, and just stand there, in the doorway. It was a reminder, a reminder that I had no privacy, my time, my very life, was not my own.  
  
Arlong may be dead now, but at times, his hulking figure still lurks in the doorway of my mind. Especially during the night. He likes to remind me that I'm not alone, and my life is not my own.  
  
And that is why... that is why, when Sanji creeps into my room to catch a glimpse of me asleep, he isn't really seeing what he thinks he is. He is seeing an imitation, my best impression of a peaceful slumbering girl. A girl who has no fears, and does not cry, who never has nightmares. A girl who sleeps the whole night through, without waking.  
  
That's what he wants to see. After he finishes his work in the kitchen and is ready to head off to bed, he comes to check on me. He wants to see that I'm comfortable, so that he can sleep peacefully.  
  
So I keep this charade up, night after night, for his benefit. That's all he wants from me.  
  
He prefers the facade to anything real I could show him.  
  
A single, solitary tear slipped down my cheek in the darkness, unbidden.  
  
  
  
A rustle of fabric, and I sensed him leaning over me.  
  
"_Nami-san_," he murmured, his voice touched with a tenderness I was surprised he could express at such a low volume. "_Nami-san_."  
  
He had never, ever spoken before, during his secret goodnight ritual. Never. And I was terrified. Afraid to open my eyes, I froze and tried not to give myself away with any kind of movement.   
  
"_Nami-san_." He sighed. "I--"  
  
I gulped.  
  
"I..."  
  
I could have been honest with him in that moment, I could have opened my eyes and responded. But I didn't. I lay still as a board.  
  
He waited. He sighed. And then he got to his feet and turned to leave.  
  
  
  
I am so lonely, Every night.  
  
Why?  
  
  
  
Why?   
  
I'm tired.  
  
  
"Sanji-kun." My lips moved as if of their own will, rejecting the command from my reason to keep silent.  
  
He turned slowly, warily.   
  
We looked at each other, both apprehensive as to what would happen next. Then he took a slow step toward me, his bare feet making a soft padding sound on the wooden floor. Another tear had slipped down my cheek and I tried to hide it, but it was too late. His shoulders sagged and he knelt in front of my bed, hand outstretched.  
  
"Nami-san," he said, softly, "Do you need something?"  
  
"Sanji-kun..." I whispered, afraid he would disappear. "Touch me."  
  
  
He closed his eyes for a moment, his head slightly bowed. I held my breath, sure that he was going to refuse. My heart pounded and I searched for some kind of excuse for what I had just said, something to cover the inevitable embarrassment.  
  
Instead, he opened his eyes again and gazed up at me through thick lashes.  
  
"As you wish. Nami-san."  
  
  
His hand rose to my cheek, brushing my hair aside with the backs of his fingers. The touch was light, the kiss of a butterfly's wing. My eyes closed involuntarily, indulging in the sensation that the contact brought on. His hand turned, and his palm cupped the side of my face. His thumb stroked my cheekbone, the slight callous on the pad of his thumb dragging along my skin...  
  
Hungrily.  
  
I opened my eyes as I felt a blush rise to my cheeks. He gazed back at me, not at my body, but into my eyes. Deep, deep into my eyes. Instead of moving to touch anything else, his hands slid to cradle my chin in both of his hands.   
  
  
Sanji's lust wasn't what I had thought it was, all along. At all.  
  
It was for... what was...  
  
  
Inside me.  
  
  
  
I took in a soft breath of surprise.   
  
  
  
His lips covered mine, cutting the gasp short. Pressing gently against my mouth, the warmth of his kiss seemed to breathe something into me.  
  
  
Understanding.  
  
  
I hadn't fooled him with my act. He had known. And he still wanted to know more.  
  
  
I began to pull away, shy.  
_  
Don't hide from me_. His lips parted, his tongue sliding though, chasing after mine. The scent of smoke and the taste of ginger filled my senses as he rolled gently in, our tongues mingling.   
  
I knew suddenly. I knew why he visits every night. I could feel it as plainly as if he had spoken the words out loud.  
  
He wanted to replace the old memories.   
  
Especially during the night. He wanted to remind me that I'm not alone, and my life is not my own. Not my own burden to carry.  
  
  
He was there. He had been from the beginning, in the shadows.  
  
  
Waiting.  
  
  
  
  
  
Patient rather than insistent, his kiss did not waver or falter in strength. His hands guided my face closer to his without forcing. He was leading me, but allowing me to decided when I was ready to follow.  
  
  
And I was ready. To melt into his kiss, let my head fall back into his hands, to feel his arms supporting me...   
  
  
  
His tie loosened easily, slipped between my fingers to the floor.  
  
  
  
His shirt buttons came undone one by one.  
  
  
  
And then... then he was laying next to me, and the feeling of those bare arms wrapped around me was bliss. I let myself go, let myself slip into this new delirium.   
  
Me and Sanji. His body and mine. Warmth and weight, mouths and eyes, hands traveling, legs tangling in the sheets.  
  
  
He kissed me to sleep that night, but his eyes never closed. While mine were still open, he was still gazing deep into them. He held me tight, one arm wrapped about my waist, the other cradling my head.  
  
Protection.  
  
  
I would never be alone again. I just had to let him... I just had to trust him. And them.  
  
  
  
  
I am so loved. Every night.  
  
  
Thank you.  
  
  
  



End file.
